


Not a Beast, Not yet a Prince

by LovelyLadyAllie



Series: The Beauty and her Beast: One-Shot Series [9]
Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Emotional, Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:15:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29770551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLadyAllie/pseuds/LovelyLadyAllie
Summary: #9 in my One-Shot series. Hours after the transformation, the Prince is alone in his room, coming to terms with the events of the night. Based in the 91 universe. Inspired by the art of Drawnby27Emilys. Cover used with permission.
Relationships: Adam/Belle (Disney), Adam/Cogsworth (Disney)
Series: The Beauty and her Beast: One-Shot Series [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1989907
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Not a Beast, Not yet a Prince

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the art of Drawnby27emilys check her out on IG! Her work is incredible. Shout out to the B&S group for their beta work.  
> instagram.com/p/CGasljUj3Ho/?utm_source=ig_web_copy_link
> 
> This is #9 in my one-shot series. As always, I live for reviews, and welcome PM's!

**Not a Beast, Not yet a Prince**

It felt so strange... so different, being human. Adam had dreamt of this for so many years, and yet, it was nothing like he remembered. He was at lot bigger than he'd been before the curse, but so much smaller than the body he'd become accustomed to. Another oddity was that he was the only one to have aged. Lumière, Cogsworth, even Chip, looked exactly as they did the day the curse changed them, but the face looking back at him in the mirror was one he didn't recognize at all.

Chapeau had warmed a bath for him, and Adam declined any assistance. He needed time to himself. Time to get used to this man he now inhabited.

Slipping into the steaming water, Adam felt the heat more keenly than he had before. For a few minutes, his skin burned, then tingled. His blood-stained clothes lay in a pile to the side, and Adam reached around, feeling for the superficial wounds that the hunter had inflicted upon him. The water tinted pink as he sunk lower into it, and his sharp breath echoed when the cuts submerged. His transformation hadn't healed him completely. Just enough that the bleeding had stopped without the need of a physician.

A million thoughts ran through his head at once. The evening had been a monsoon of emotions and he didn't know how to feel or what to think. All of it was so overwhelming. As he sat in silence, the flicker of a single candle his only light, he found it difficult to breathe.

Hugging his knees to his chest, he slowly inhaled, trying to quiet his racing thoughts.

But it was a worthless endeavor.

Images of the hunter kept flashing behind his eyes. That man came to his castle with one goal: kill the Beast. And he'd almost let him. He'd felt so hopeless after she left, he thought it was a better end for him to be killed by a man than to wither away from a broken heart.

Then she came back. Belle _came back._ For him. It really wasn't a fair fight. Once he had the will to defend himself, it was little work to gain the upper hand.

As a Beast, he'd killed his fair share of wild animals for survival, but he'd never harmed a person. If one could call that arrogant blowhard, Gaston, a person. He hadn't meant to kill the man. When Gaston begged him, using the same words Belle had months before— _I'll do anything_ —all anger drained from him and he couldn't follow through. He'd made the decision _not_ to.

He didn't regret it. Even as he felt the pain of the injuries the hunter inflicted on him, he wouldn't have changed a thing. Belle had taught him that compassion was always the right route to take, no matter the injustice or harm done to you by another. She'd forgiven him for all his transgressions—even putting her father in harm's way. And he was better for it. But not everyone could be redeemed, it seemed. The thought triggered a new wave of remorse and sorrow.

He'd been spared. And he didn't know why. Belle's confession of love for him was more powerful than just giving him back his humanity. It saved his life. His wounds should have killed him, man or beast. But he was here, alive, and blessed with the most extraordinary gift imaginable. The love of a woman more beautiful on the inside than she was on the outside. And he'd learned that his value, his worth, was more than the outward shell. By observing Belle, he saw that what made a worthy person came from having strength of character, kindness, and understanding for those different from one's self. She'd exhibited all of that and more with him, and he tried applying it to himself.

A lesson he'd been prepared to live with, alone, for the rest of his life. When she'd left, he'd never thought he'd see her again. He'd believed he was unworthy of redemption—a belief he'd have embraced were it not for his servants. _They_ were worthy and always had been. His biggest punishment was in learning how to love others but being unable to help them.

Belle's return came with a cataclysmic shift within him. She was hope, and light, and the promise of a future.

Everything after that happened so fast. His fight with Gaston, her reaching out to him, then the seemingly fatal blow.

One minute, he was saying goodbye to Belle, feeling the icy grip of death and the next, radiant heat and blinding lights poured out of him. It hadn't been painful, but it also hadn't been pleasant. When he transformed into the Beast, everything hurt as bones stretched and his flesh twisted and grew. Shrinking back to normal had only been uncomfortable. Like being forced into a tight ball after laying sprawled out. He was grateful it hadn't been the searing pain he'd felt the first time.

Then Belle chased away every discomfort with the most perfect kiss.

He closed his eyes and brought forth the memory, letting himself live in that moment. A moment he thought he'd never have. One that he didn't feel he deserved. But one that he'd spend the rest of his life earning.

Sitting up, Adam groaned with the movement. The hot water was soothing his aching muscles, and his wounds no longer stung.

Looking into the water, Adam stared at his reflection. Who was this man? Now he understood the confusion on Belle's face. She, much like himself, had only the ripped portrait as a reference to what he looked like beneath the fur and fangs. And that painting had been painted at least a year before the curse.

He gazed over his now much sharper features, searching for signs of his mother and father. It was hard to picture either of them. He'd lost his mother so young that what he knew of her face was more from paintings of her than actual memory. His father, though… That perpetually disapproving glare the Prince wore at all times would never leave him.

Adam tried mimicking that harsh scowl, but he couldn't make it quite right. He had his mother's eyes, and they refused to be so condemning. The ridge of his brow was his father's, along with his strong chin, but the more elegant straight nose was hers, and his cheekbones were also reminiscent of her beautiful face. His hair was redder. As a boy, it was a medium brown streaked with blonde, like his father. But there was always a glow of red in the light. Now it was a light auburn, a unique blend of both his parents. Just like he was.

Getting used to this new face—this new body—was going to be an adjustment. He looked himself over more, marveling at the corded muscles of his arms, how wide his chest was before it tapered to a narrow waist. His thighs were also thickly muscled along with his calves. It was as if all the climbing and pacing he'd done as a Beast translated into his human form.

Overall, he couldn't be displeased with this body. But would Belle? He wasn't as big as Gaston, someone she clearly had no affection for. But he wasn't a small man either. And although she'd kissed him several times tonight, would she need more time getting used to seeing him like this? If she was magically transformed into a completely different shape with a new face, would he need time?

He didn't think so. Because beneath whatever she looked like, she was still Belle. Like her favorite play said, "That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

_The rose._

He hadn't looked to see if it was still there. Even if it was just a stem.

After washing away the dirt and dried blood, Adam emerged from the tub and dried himself. He then found a set of clothing in the repaired armoire. A soft white lawn shirt, black trousers, and a dark blue waistcoat. He left the jacket on a chair, ready if he wished to go back downstairs.

Everything fit as if they'd been sewn for him, even though they couldn't have been. Not that fast. He wondered if part of the castle's transformation included resizing his clothing. Or perhaps conjuring new outfits? As basic as the items were, he didn't recognize them.

Once dressed, Adam padded to the balcony, needing to see with his own eyes what had become of his tormentor.

The stand, the dome, and the rose were gone. He opened the doors and stepped out onto the balcony. The stone floor was washed clean of his blood and appeared new again.

Everything in his room was back to what it had been before. The portrait of him as a child was mended, all furniture repaired, and where a pile of shredded pillows and blankets once made up his nest, a four-poster bed with dark-colored linens now sat.

It all felt too surreal. Any moment he'd wake and all of it would have been some long fever dream.

A knock on the door drew him back into the room.

"Come in," he said in a voice softer and slightly higher than he was used to.

Cogsworth entered, a reserved look on his face. "Your Highness, are you quite alright? It's been over an hour and the others are starting to worry…"

Adam sat on the end of his bed, his shoulders curved in a way that would have gotten him switched. "I'm… I think I'm alright…"

Cogsworth took a few steps closer. "You _think_ , sire?"

Adam's hands sat palm up in his lap and he stared down at them. "Is this… real?"

The majordomo straightened, his chest puffing out a bit, then he crossed the room and stopped just short of where Adam sat.

The older gentleman's expression softened, and he laid a hand on his shoulder. "Very real, Prince Adam."

It was the first time his head of household had used his name in nearly a decade, and it brought tears to his eyes. In a whisper, he repeated the name, "Prince Adam…"

Cogsworth gave a soft smile. "It's what the Mistress always called you. You may have been baptized Louis-Alexandre Francis Adam d'Orléans, but your mother only ever called you her little Adam, and she insisted it be the name we all used."

A memory surfaced, or what Adam thought was a memory. _"Père_ didn't like it, did he?"

"The Master didn't like a great many things, but he allowed them... for her. I don't believe there was anything he wouldn't have done for her. Even allow a biblical name when he wanted his son to have a family name."

Adam rubbed his head, pressure mounting as he dug into the past. "He called me Alexandre."

Cogsworth nodded. "Only a few times before the Princess set him straight."

"'I don't have much say in his future, but I _will_ have say over his name,'" Adam paraphrased, hearing his mother's voice so clearly.

"Yes. That's exactly it. Prince Adam."

Adam snorted, looking down at his hands again. "I don't _feel_ like a prince."

Cogsworth took a seat beside Adam, still just as stiff as always, but with a very fatherly expression on his face. "I don't presume to know what it _should_ feel like to be a prince, but I know I hardly feel like a man yet. I keep feeling the gears turning, and I find myself swaying to the rhythm of the pendulum that swung within me. It will take time. For all of us."

With a nod, Adam conceded his point. Why was he expecting himself to suddenly feel like a dignified nobleman? Time… He had to give himself time to be what he was expected to be.

But would he have it?

"Cogsworth, now that the curse is broken, do you think the world will remember we exist?"

The older man startled, his eyes widening. "I… Well, it seems within reason to assume… Oh, gracious." He sprang to his feet, frantically looking around. "We must be prepared! The storerooms need restocking, spring decorations put up, the gardens tended to—should the King wish to visit you…"

Adam balked. "No, Uncle Louis wouldn't lower himself… Do you think?"

Cogsworth stalled. "There's no telling. At the very least, he'll send a proxy to verify you have finally overcome your… your _ailment_."

Ah, yes… the "mysterious ailment."

When the curse first came down upon them, a delegation of local noblemen were due to visit. Le Plume sent out warning letters, claiming a new and inexplicable disease had swept through the castle, and it wasn't safe for outsiders. Now and then, a missive would arrive, checking on the status of the Prince, and Le Plume would say that while everyone within had healed, the Prince himself was still susceptible to outbreaks and they feared his condition incurable. But it had been several years since they'd received any word from the outside world. All assumed they'd been forgotten.

Adam hung his head, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not ready."

"You'll have to be. But we'll be there with you. You're not alone. And you have Belle now."

That put a small smile on his face, and he looked back up. "I do, don't I?"

"You do. We'll take a day to gather ourselves. Everyone deserves at least that much, then we'll get to work. Webster will be more than happy to work with you, resuming the lessons you abandoned…" A wiry brow arched, just the slightest bit of condemnation in it.

Adam chuckled a little. "Yes, I suppose you're right. It had been the best part of being a beast. No more boring lessons…"

Cogsworth gave a little snort and shook his head at him. "Is there anything else you need, sire?"

Adam stood, crossing to his old friend. "No. I'm fine. Thank you, Cogsworth. For everything."

"As always, it is my deepest pleasure to serve, Your Highness." Wearing a smile, Cogsworth bowed his way out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Adam looked around again. It wasn't a dream. He wouldn't wake up in a cold sweat, panting, still covered in hair with horns and fangs. Tonight, he'd sleep in a plush bed, and in the morning wake to a new day as a man. A man in love, with his whole future before him. A future that was going to be happier than he'd ever imagined it could be.

He was no longer a beast, but he wasn't a prince yet either. However, he knew he'd get there. He was confident that with Belle and his friends by his side, he'd reclaim the title he was born to have and be a ruler they all could be proud of.


End file.
